


I'll Be There

by miss_grey



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Angst, Anna is Cas's mom, Best Friends, Childhood Friends, Daddy Issues, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Kid Castiel, Kid Dean Winchester, Kid Sam Winchester, M/M, Mechanic Dean, Minor Character Death, Protective Anna, Protective Bobby, Protective Dean Winchester, Teenage Rebellion, Unconventional Families, Underage Drinking, Underage Sex, and other teenage shenanigans, driving without a license, incarcerated dean, mention of teenage pregnancy, offensive language, walkie-talkies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-22
Updated: 2017-03-24
Packaged: 2018-02-18 08:16:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2341388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miss_grey/pseuds/miss_grey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In 1997, Anna and Castiel Novak moved to Sioux Falls for a fresh start.  They were a little broke and a little desperate, but they were determined to make it work.  For better or worse, they moved in next door to a scrapyard called “Singer Salvage” where Bobby Singer, a mostly-absent John Winchester, and his two sons Sam and Dean lived.  Castiel and Dean became unlikely friends who decided when they were nine years old that they would take on the world together.  And even though life wasn’t perfect, the bonds these neighboring families formed challenged small-town conventions and proved that family doesn’t end with blood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is going to span the time from when the boys are 9 to adulthood. I hope y'all enjoy the ride :)

 

 

_July, 1997_

9 years old

 

 

Castiel stared out the window of Anna’s gray 1980 Chevy Citation at the beat-up, old two story house that sat at the end of the dirt and gravel drive.  He frowned, lip trembling, and asked with a determinedly steady voice, “Is…is this it?  Our new house?”

Anna heaved a heavy sigh and moved one hand from where it was still gripping the wheel to run it through the dark threads of Castiel’s hair.  “I know it looks rough, sweetheart,” she said, “but with a little TLC, it’ll be good as new, I swear.”  Castiel knew better than to argue, knew it was no use, but he couldn’t keep the skeptical look out of his eye.  Anna petted his hair again and flashed Castiel a lop-sided smile.  “This is a new start for us, Cas.  Just you and me.  We’ll have to be brave, and strong, and patient, but I know we can do it.  Whaddaya say?”

Castiel cleared his throat and nodded stiffly.  “We’ll make it work.”

Anna smiled and bumped their shoulders together.  “That’s my little man.”  She popped her door open with a creak and said “Come and help me take the stuff in, and I’ll let you pick out your room.”

 

 

 

Castiel chose a room with an east facing window; it was a medium sized room with nothing in it except for some dust bunnies, cobwebs, and an old bedside table that looked to have been chewed at the corners and on the legs by a dog.  Castiel didn’t care about those things too much, though.  He liked the wooden floor and the tall ceiling and even the large closet with the bare light bulb hanging inside.  Once the moving truck brought all of their things, the room wouldn’t look so sad and empty—Castiel had plenty of books to line the walls, and he always liked to cover his ceiling with glow stars.  For now, though, he sat his suitcase in a corner and unrolled his red, slightly frayed sleeping bag in the middle of the floor where the wood looked to be least dusty.

Most boys his age would probably have been excited at the prospect of moving to a new place; Anna had said that it would be like an adventure.  Castiel supposed that if he thought about it like that, like one of the mystery books he liked to read, then it wasn’t all bad.  It wasn’t as though he’d left behind many friends, or even that he’d been too upset to learn about the news.  It was just that everything felt so sharply unfamiliar.  This house didn’t smell like the old house.  The air was devoid of the constant background noise of NPR playing from a staticky radio.  He’d even have to start at a new school where he didn’t know any of the kids. 

Castiel didn’t have many friends before, but at least at the old school everyone knew each other and he knew what to expect.  He had no idea what to expect in this new place.  He wasn’t terrified by the prospect.  He was just tired.  Resigned.

So Castiel did what he always did in situations that he didn’t feel like dealing with; he went over to his suitcase and pulled out the battered copy of the latest Hardy Boys novel he was reading.  A good story would soothe his nerves and wipe everything else away for a while—at least until Anna called him down for lunch.  He was just straightening with the book clutched securely in his hands when he heard a shout from somewhere outside.  He strode over to the window and pushed the tattered sheer curtain aside to get a look at who’d made the noise.

The new house sat at the end of a long dirt and gravel track miles from town—a big change from the old place.  What made it all seem even stranger was that their neighbor seemed to own a junkyard or something—rusty old cars and mountains of twisted metal turned the yard into an impenetrable-looking maze.  Castiel had a good view of the junkyard from his bedroom window, and what might have been the edge of an actual house jutting out from all the junk a ways back on the land. 

Now, though, Castiel’s attention was drawn to the ground, when he heard the shout again.  His eyes fixed on two small shapes and he realized that the shouts belonged to two boys who were shouting and laughing and chasing each other through the maze of old cars.  One of the boys was significantly taller than the other, and his laugh was so _inviting_ sounding that Castiel found himself shifting on his feet, almost wanting to go downstairs and join in the fun.  The younger of the two boys giggled and chased after the taller one, arms outstretched.  They looked happy.

Castiel sighed and let the curtain fall shut as he retreated to his sleeping bag to read.

 

 

 

 

Anna started work sooner than either of them thought that she would.  The hospital called and said that another nurse had to leave town on a family emergency and asked if Anna would be willing to fill in for her.  Of course this was great news for them, financially.  Castiel might have been a kid, but he knew about things like moving expenses and mortgages and needing to pay the bills.  He wasn’t _dumb._ And he knew that it needed to happen.  In fact, he was happy that Anna had found a job so quickly—was proud of her for what she did.  But it didn’t change the fact that now while Anna was working long hours in town at the hospital, Castiel was left alone at the creepy new house with nothing to do.

The first couple days of the new job, Anna was gone for more than ten hours at a time, and when she came home, she was exhausted—she barely had enough energy to drag herself through the door.  Those nights she and Castiel had ramen for dinner, which was alright, because it was the beef flavor that they both liked.  Castiel spent those first days huddled inside reading through some of his favorite books that the movers had finally delivered.  The house felt strange and empty.  They didn’t own enough stuff to fill the space of the huge, echoey two-story house.  Everything felt out of place, but Castiel was able to ignore it for a while when he curled up at the edge of the couch, in his favorite spot.

By the third day of Anna’s new shift, though, Castiel had grown restless, and even he couldn’t stand to be cooped up in the too-quiet, empty house anymore, so he finally made his way outside.

It was too bright, and too hot.   Weeds that reached up past Castiel’s knees surrounded the house, crept close to the porch steps, and covered the backyard.  Twisty vines crawled up the siding just under his bedroom window.  The backyard also sported a few old trees with branches that were old and gnarled—one of the trees was black and gray, and drooped closer to the ground than to the sky like a healthy tree might. It sort of looked like it had been struck by lightning or something, which made Castiel wonder if that was the sort of thing he’d have to get used to out here in the countryside. 

The gnarled branches and blackened trunk fascinated Castiel, but what kept his attention was that upon closer inspection, he realized that the tree wasn’t completely dead.  Parts of it were still alive, and one of the branches, nearly lying on the ground, had actually sprouted new green leaves.  That was sort of cool.  Castiel bet that no one else even knew about it, either.  So it was his first secret in this new place.

Several downed branches and sticks scattered around the mass of tangled trees, and it was just the sort of thing that Castiel needed to distract him.  He found a stick that was fairly thick, and almost the length of his own arm—it felt good, solid in his hand.  With his new weapon in hand, he decided he should begin to explore his new territory.

Castiel spent that day wandering around the acres of land, swatting at extra-long weeds with the stick, and propping it on his shoulder like a gun.  It was easy to imagine out there alone in the knee-deep weeds that he was an explorer from frontier times—it wasn’t so much of a stretch to think that he might come across strangers or bears or something like the characters in his books.  For a while it was fun.  Castiel played sword-fighting with a crooked branch, and he whacked weeds, and he even tried his hand at climbing the twisted limbs of the old trees.  He only fell out once, which he considered a personal victory, even if he did scrape his knee doing it.  He was on his way back to the house to put a bandaid on it when he heard more shouting coming from next door, the sound of something being hit, and laughing.  He detoured and made his way close to the barbed-wire fence that separated the two properties.

Through the maze of cars, Castiel spotted the two boys from before.  The older of the two boys was throwing rocks at one of the old junkers, and the younger boy cheered him on.  The younger one said something, and the older boy laughed, and said something back, but Castiel couldn’t hear what it was.  He watched them for a while, and was filled with a strange sort of longing to be included.  He crept closer, close enough that he could wrap his hands around the rusted barbed wire and peek through to get a better look at the boys.  Castiel cleared his throat, gathered his courage, and shouted “Hi!” at the two of them.

They both startled and turned toward him in surprise.  The older boy stared at him for a long moment before he screwed his face up into a frown and turned away, disappearing into the junkyard.  Castiel swallowed his nerves, and tried not to take the slight personally, though the back of his throat burned with the rejection.  But before the younger one followed his brother, he offered Castiel a small wave and smile.  Castiel swallowed thickly and smiled back.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The day was hot enough that by the time they headed in for lunch, Sammy’s hair was sticking up in every direction and Dean’s shirt stuck to his body with sweat.  Bobby’s old AC unit rattled in the window, but the air inside the house felt awesome compared to the sticky hot air outside.  A moment after the boys came in, the backdoor in the kitchen swung open and Bobby came in, his clothes also dark with sweat, grease smudges covering his hands and up along his arms.  He made his way to the kitchen sink to clean up and the boys took that as their cue to join him.  Sammy pulled up a seat at the kitchen table and Dean made his way over to the counter to retrieve a bag of bread and a knife.  “Hey Uncle Bobby, how’s it going out there?”

Bobby grunted and twisted the water off.  “Hot as hell, but besides that, alright I guess.  Almost done with the Ford.”

“Awesome.  Can I come out and see it later?”

“That’s fine.”  Bobby took the bread from Dean’s hands and waved him away.  “Take a seat, boy, I’ll make us lunch.”

“Okay,” Dean mumbled, and slouched over to pull out a chair next to Sammy.

Bobby fixed them all pb&j sandwiches—Dean’s favorite—and Dean was just sinking his teeth in when Sammy reached for his glass of milk and piped up with: “Uncle Bobby, guess what?!  There’s a new boy next door!”

Bobby quirked a brow and smiled.  “Huh, well that’s a change.  Did you boys say hi?”

Sammy frowned for a second and flashed Dean an annoyed look across the table.  “I waved to him, but Dean was a jerk and just walked away.”  Then the little traitor took a huge bite of his own sandwich.

Dean should have been expecting it, but he still groaned when Bobby cuffed him upside the head and said “What’d you do that for?”

Dean swallowed down his bite of sandwich and frowned at Sammy.  “I don’t need any friends.”  He grumbled.

Bobby snorted and sat his own lunch down on the plate in favor of staring hard at Dean.  “Right.  Well, I bet the new kid would probably appreciate a friendly face, regardless.”

“Yeah, Dean.  He looked nice, and sorta lonely.”  Sammy added.

Dean could feel the weight of both of their stares on him while he ate his pb&j sandwich but he ignored them both, stubbornly.

 

 

 

It’s not that Dean was particularly trying to be an asshole or anything, but it just _bothered_ him that Uncle Bobby and his dad were always harping on him about making friends.  Dean didn’t _need_ friends.  He had Sammy and dad and Bobby.  He had his family.  He didn’t need anyone else in his life.  Didn’t need some stranger to show up and mess things up.  So what if the new kid next door was lonely?  That wasn’t Dean’s problem.

He saw him though.  Lots of times.  Mostly the kid did look sad, and pretty lonely.  He was always by himself, every time that Dean saw him.  In fact, he never even saw anyone else at the house.  He even began to wonder if maybe the boy was a runaway or something.  It didn’t seem that strange, honestly. 

Dean wasn’t _spying on him_ either, no matter what Sammy said in that nagging little voice of his.  Seriously.  Five year olds could be so damn nosy.  It wasn’t Sammy’s business what Dean did.  And so what if Dean like to sneak close to the fence so that he could see into the neighbor’s yard, or hide out in one of the junkers so that he could watch the strange new kid wander around whacking things with a stick.  God, it looked boring.  Still.  Not Dean’s problem.

 

 

 

One day, when Dean was busy climbing a teetering pile of crushed old cars, he caught a glimpse of the boy leaving the yard and for the first time, venturing down the gravel road.  Dean watched him, deliberating for just a moment, before he heaved himself down to the ground, brushed his hands on his grease-smeared jeans, and jogged out to the driveway.

The kid walked a lot faster than Dean had originally given him credit for, and it took Dean a few minutes to catch up to him at a jog.  The sounds of Dean’s footfalls and the scattering of gravel must have alerted the boy to his presence because he turned, startled, and flinched back when Dean skidded to a halt in front of him.  Dean was immediately taken aback by the slight fear on the kid’s face and he felt like a real jerk, suddenly.  The boy was about an inch or two shorter than him, with a pale face, except for a thin scratch along one of his cheeks.  His dark hair was longer than Dean’s, and was messy like the kid had never bothered to brush it.  The boy bit his lip and crossed his arms, and asked, defensively, “What do you want?”  He had the biggest, bluest eyes that Dean had ever seen, and right now they were looking at Dean with hurt distrust and hell, that just wouldn’t do.  Sammy was right.  Dean was a jerk for putting that look in this kid’s eyes.  Well, he would damn well fix it.

Dean wiped his sweaty palm on his sweaty t-shirt then thrust it toward the other boy.  He looked him straight in his big blue eyes and said “Hi.  I’m Dean Winchester.  What’s your name?”

The other boy flicked his eyes warily between Dean’s hand and his face for a second before he seemed to make a decision and he uncrossed his arms and hesitantly held out his own hand.  Dean clasped it in his own.  “Castiel Novak.”  The boy said, as Dean shook his hand.

Dean grinned at him, but cocked his head at the strange name.  “Huh.  Well, welcome to the neighborhood, Cas.”

Dean realized he was still holding Cas’s hand when the boy finally pulled it free and crossed his arms again.  He was staring at Dean with a slight frown, and though he didn’t look afraid anymore, he didn’t look exactly happy either.  “Why are you talking to me now?”  Cas asked.  His voice was stern, like he was ready to call Dean on his bullshit, but at the same time, Dean could hear a tremor in it as well like he was afraid of the answer.  “You ignored me before.  More than once.”

Dean shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets sheepishly.  “I’m sorry about before.  I can be a jerk sometimes, I guess.”

“Oh.”  Cas unfolded his arms and unconsciously mimicked Dean, shoving his hands in his own pockets.  He lowered his eyes and scuffed at the gravel on the road.

“So,” Dean began, bumping Cas’s shoulder with his own, “Where you headed?”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm having a ton of fun writing this story. I hope y'all enjoy, and remember: Comments are love! :D

 

 

_July 1997_

9 years old

 

 

Sammy met him just inside the door, with his little arms crossed and jam-smeared face covered with a smug smile.  “I saw you outside walking with the new boy!”

Dean shrugged as he pushed past his little brother and flopped down on the couch in front of the tv, where an episode of Wild Kingdom was playing.  “Yeah, so?”

“I thought you said you didn’t need friends?”  Dean shrugged, determined not to let Sammy get to him.  On the tv screen, a lion gnawed on the carcass of a gazelle and Dean grimaced at all of the blood.  He could feel Sammy hovering nearby, just out of sight.  And then his voice was next to Dean’s ear, sing-songing “Dean has a new friend!”

Dean snarled and jerked around, lunging for his brother, but Sammy scampered back quickly, cackling evilly.  “Pipe down, short stuff.”  He growled.

Sammy smirked back at him.  “What’s his name?”

Dean huffed and flopped back around.  “Cas.”  He bit his lip for a second, remembering the wary look in the other boy’s eyes.  “Well, Castiel, actually, but what kind of name is that, anyway?”

“I think it’s cool.”

Dean snorted.  “Of course you do.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing, Sammy.  Anyway, it’s too weird to say, so I just decided to call him Cas.”

“Did you even ask him if you could call him that?”

“Nah, but he didn’t seem to care.  It’s cool.”

Sammy was quiet for a minute before he flopped down on the couch next to Dean’s feet.  “So what did you guys do?”

Dean shrugged.  “Took a walk.  Talked some.”

“’Bout what?”

Dean frowned.  “Stuff.”

Suddenly the room was filled with Uncle Bobby’s gruff voice, asking “So you finally went and said hi to the kid, huh?”

Dean huffed a sigh but turned around to face his uncle.  “Yeah.”

“And…?”  Uncle Bobby waved his hand, cueing Dean to elaborate.

“And what?”

Uncle Bobby rolled his eyes.  “And what is his name?”

“Cas…tiel Novak.”

“Huh.  That’s unique.  You gonna hang out with him again?”

“Yeah, I guess.”  Dean shrugged, determined not to make a big deal out of the whole thing like his family seemed to want to do.  “He’s alright for a new kid.”

 

* * *

 

 

Anna came home earlier than usual that night, and she brought Kentucky Fried Chicken and mashed potatoes with her in a big bag that made the strange house smell good.  “How was work?”  Castiel asked, as he helped his mom settle the food on their tiny kitchen table.

Anna groaned and sank down into her chair, pushed the bag of chicken toward Castiel.  “Long.  They had me covering on the ICU unit today.”  She bit into one of the fluffy biscuits that came with the chicken and moaned.  “How was your day, kiddo?”

Castiel took a careful bite of his chicken then set it down and wiped his fingers on a napkin.  His heart was still racing from the encounter earlier in the day, and he’d been so excited to tell Anna about it, but he’d tried to control himself.  Now, though, she’d asked, and he had _so much_ he wanted to tell her.  His smile was wobbly, but it was better than he’d done in a long time.  “I think I made a friend today.”

Anna’s eyes widened and she set her biscuit down.  She beamed at Castiel.  “Really?  That’s great!  Who is it?”

“His name is Dean Winchester, and he lives next door.”  Castiel jerked his thumb over his shoulder to indicate the junkyard next door.  “I saw him and his little brother before, but he finally said hi to me today, and we went on a walk.  He showed me a bird’s nest in a tree down the road, and then he talked a lot about cars and Sammy—that’s his brother.”

“That’s great, Cas!  How old is he?”

Castiel allowed his smile to soften a bit and he murmured “He called me that, too.  He’s nine, just like me.  But Sammy is only five.”

“Well see, now you’ll know someone when you start school in a month.  Are you guys gonna play again tomorrow?”

Castiel bit his lip, and finally allowed his anxiety to show.  “I don’t know.  He didn’t say we would, but he was nice today.”  Castiel frowned.  “I don’t even think any other kids live around here.  I haven’t seen any except Dean and Sammy.”  Castiel raised his eyes to Anna’s and felt a curl of panic tighten in his belly.  “What if he doesn’t want to play with me again?  What if he thinks I’m weird?”

Anna frowned at the sudden change and stretched her pale hand across the table to grasp his.  “Why would you think that?”

Castiel shrugged, not willing to voice all of his fears—the fear that he and Dean wouldn’t have anything in common, the fear that Dean would grow tired of Castiel very quickly.

“Sweetheart, you just met Dean today.  Why don’t you just give it some time and see what happens?  I’m sure everything will be okay.”

“Really?”  Castiel wanted to believe her, wanted to hope.

“Really.  And anyway, you know what?  I’m proud of you for making a friend.  I knew we’d figure this out.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

Dean tried to be sneaky about leaving, but the fact was, Sammy was up with the sun every day and there was no hiding from his little brother, who caught him snagging some pop tarts in the kitchen.  “You’re up early.”

Dean grimaced and shrugged.  “So?  Couldn’t sleep.”

“Where are you going?”

Dean sighed and took a huge bite out of his pop tart.  “I was gonna go next door and see if Cas wants to hang out.”

“Can I come?”

“No.”  Dean answered, stern.  But he should’ve known it wouldn’t work.  Sammy pouted, big green eyes widening, lower lip jutting petulantly.

“Please, Dean?”

“Ugh,” Dean rolled his eyes.  “Fine.”  Dean shoved another bite of pop tart in his mouth, wiped his hands on his jeans, and mumbled “Let’s go.”

 

* * *

 

 

Anna left shortly after breakfast, and Castiel had nothing better to do than get dressed and wander aimlessly around the big house for a while, trying to get used to the alien space.  He’d been doing this for days, so he tried not to let the loneliness get to him. 

He was surprised a short while later, then, by knocking on the front door.  Castiel’s heart thumped wildly in his chest—half hope, half fear, over who it might be and what they might want.  But when he opened the door, he couldn’t help the smile that curled his lips when he saw Dean and Sammy Winchester standing on the weathered and creaky front porch, wearing smiles.  “Dean.”  Castiel breathed.

“Heya Cas,” Dean greeted, then he shoved his little brother forward.  “This is Sammy.  Sammy, Cas.” Castiel nodded at the younger boy and Sammy waved happily at him.  “Wanna come out and play?”

 

 

 

It was so much easier than Castiel had imagined; Dean was all casual self-assurance, and Sammy was eager and friendly.  Castiel had never really had any close friends—he’d grown up under the close watchful eye of his grandmother and his young but loving mother, and for the most part, that was all Castiel had thought he’d needed.  The kids at school had always found a reason to make fun of him—he had no father, his mom was too young to be a mom, and some of the older kids called her terrible names: _whore, slut_.  They’d mocked Castiel for how much he read, and for all of the big words he used.  They even made fun of him for his clothes, which were never quite right.  They were either too old-fashioned, or off-brand, and no matter what, Castiel had learned that despite his best efforts, he wasn’t good enough.

Dean and Sammy didn’t seem to notice those things about him, though, or if they did, they were polite enough not to mention them.  Castiel was grateful, because the long hours alone at the house had begun to weigh on him, and he’d started to dread what the new school year would bring.

When Castiel warily suggested that the Winchester brothers help him explore his new yard, his offer was met with enthusiasm, and Castiel found himself tugged along in their whirlwind of energy and excitement at the prospect of a new adventure.  Castiel showed them the old lightning tree and the revelation earned him a “Whoa, Cas, this is awesome!” from Dean and a “COOOL” from Sammy.  They spent some time climbing into the tree to inspect the lightning damage, and to marvel at the fact that it was still standing.  Sammy needed their help to climb up into the tree, and despite Dean rolling his eyes at his younger brother, he still held onto him tight.  Just from listening to Dean talk about his brother the day before, Castiel could tell that Dean loved Sammy very much.  Castiel wondered if it was always like that with siblings.

They spent some time hanging out in the branches, determining whether or not the old tree would be a good spot for a treehouse or a fort of some other kind.  Castiel felt protective over the tree, which was one of his first discoveries here at the new house, but he was willing to share the space with his new friends if that was what they wanted.  Sammy was afraid that the tree wouldn’t be able to hold them all up, but Dean seemed to think it was a good idea, and that seemed to be enough to convince Sammy. 

It was while they were sitting in the branches that Sammy asked “Where’s your mom?”

Castiel picked at a charred piece of bark.  “She’s at work.  She’s a nurse at the hospital in town.”

“Oh.”  Sammy shifted closer so that he could see Castiel’s face.  “And your dad?”

Castiel shrugged stiffly, the pain of rejection still with him, even after all this time.  “I don’t have one.”

He wasn’t expecting five year old Sammy to reach his little hand out and pat him on the shoulder, saying “That’s alright.  Our dad is gone all the time.  That’s why we live with Uncle Bobby.”

Castiel raised his eyes to Sammy’s, then to Dean’s, as the other boy shifted uncomfortably.  Dean squared his shoulders, though, and lifted his chin, saying: “It’s not ‘cause he wants to leave us.  Dad’s a Marine.  He’s a hero.”

That was Castiel’s first introduction to the idea of John Winchester.

 

 

 

They explored all morning: they found a garden snake slithering through the knee-high grasses near the house, but Dean explained that it wasn’t poisonous—apparently they were pretty common around these parts.  Castiel showed the boys his favorite stick that he used to hit weeds with, and the other two found some of their own so that they could play sword-fighting.  They finally stopped, though, when Dean accidentally whacked Castiel’s fingers with the stick.  Dean blushed and apologized, and though Castiel told him it was alright, Dean seemed pretty upset over it, so they quit.

Finally around mid-day, Sammy complained of being hungry, and the brothers asked Castiel if he wanted to go to their house for lunch, and to watch some tv, since he and Anna didn’t have cable.  “We only have like four channels, but it’s better than nothing.”  Dean added after Castiel nervously agreed to join them.  “Besides, we mostly watch the cartoons and nature shows on PBS anyway, so it’s alright.  And we have lots of movies.”

Sammy rolled his eyes.  “Dean always watches the same movies.”

Dean smirked at his little brother.  “You know you love it.”  Then he waved them all forward. “Come on, Cas.  I’m hungry.”

 

 

 

Castiel was amused to learn that Dean’s idea of a homemade lunch was pb&j with Doritos shoved between the slices of bread, and large glasses of ice-cold Kool aid.  Castiel stared at the sandwich speculatively, but Dean assured him that it was “awesome” so Castiel decided to take a chance.  He took a tentative bite but then had to agree.  It was pretty good.

The three boys were comfortably ensconced on the living room couch with their sandwiches, watching Bill Nye the Science Guy on tv when a new, gruff voice knocked Castiel out of his comfort zone.  He turned shyly to face the owner of the new voice and tried not to shrink back.  The man was tall; he was clad in jeans, plaid, and an old baseball cap.  Dark streaks of grease covered his arms and his face was half-covered in a scruffy beard.  Castiel was always nervous to meet new people, but he could only assume that this man was “Uncle Bobby” and even though the Winchesters had assured Castiel that the man wouldn’t mind him coming over, he had second-thoughts about it now.

Castiel gulped and stood, setting his sandwich on the coffee table.  “Hello.”

Uncle Bobby eyed him for a minute before smiling slightly.  “You Castiel?”

“Yes, sir.”

Uncle Bobby waved the words away.  “There’s no need for that, kid.  I’m Bobby.  It’s good to meet you.”

Castiel ventured a smile.  “You too.”

Bobby turned his eyes onto the other boys then.  “You boys having fun?”

“Yep.”  Dean answered lazily.  “We’re gonna show Cas the yard after lunch.”

Bobby nodded.  “That’s fine, just watch out for yourselves.”  He nodded toward Castiel.  “You’re welcome here anytime, Cas.”

The words sent a wave of calm through Castiel and he allowed his shoulders to sag.  “Thank you.”  After Bobby left the room, Castiel sank back into the couch between the brothers again.  Dean nudged Castiel with his shoulder and murmured: “See, I told you he wouldn’t mind.”

 

 

 

 

After lunch, the Winchester brothers introduced Castiel to the wonder that was Singer Salvage.  Apparently Bobby was a mechanic, but he also owned a salvage yard that he ran in his free time.  Dean told him that Bobby was pretty busy fixing cars, so all of the old ones were often left to sit and rust in large, towering piles of twisted metal.  Castiel thought it looked like a terrible accident just waiting to happen, but Dean and Sammy assured him that it was “really safe and awesome.” 

“What do you guys do out here, anyway?”  Castiel asked.

Dean snorted.  “Are you kidding?  This place is the jackpot.  Tell him Sammy.”

“We play hide and seek, and we make forts in some of the old cars, and sometimes we find cool stuff in the trunks.  There’s lots of places to hide.”

“Aren’t you afraid that one of the cars will fall on you?”

Dean rolled his eyes and shoved at Castiel.  “Nah.  It’s fine.  Now go hide, Cas.  I’ll count first!”

Castiel wanted to protest again, but then Dean started to count to 100 very loudly, and Castiel thought it best to hide.  He dodged through leaning towers of metal, looking for a good place to hide that Dean wouldn’t find too easily.  He was firmly wedged between the front seat and steering wheel of an old green car by the time he heard Dean reach 100. 

And even though Dean found him within ten minutes, Castiel had to admit that he was having fun.  They played for hours, and by the time Castiel finally went home, the sun was starting to sink beyond the horizon.  He was dirty and sweaty, and his knees were scraped, and he was so happy to realize that he had friends.  For real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Doritos are good on every kind of sandwich. That's the moral of this story.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one day. XD

 

 

_July, 1997_

9 years old

 

 

Castiel had never had a summer quite like this one before.  Before, Castiel would have spent most of his days inside reading, or helping his grandmother with her projects.  Sometimes he’d find himself sitting in front of the tv watching news programs with her, or he’d listen to her type away at her computer where she was busy writing her second self-help book.  Those summers were always quiet and reserved, for the most part.  Sometimes, though, Anna would take some time off and she and Castiel would just play: one time they had a water fight in the front yard and even invited the neighbor kids to play.  Grandmother hadn’t approved of it, of course, but then she rarely approved of anything Anna did.  One year, Anna took Castiel to a lake and they stayed the whole day—swimming and laying on the bank to soak up the sun’s rays. 

There wasn’t any time for that now: Anna worked all the time, and Castiel knew why, but it still made him sad.  But he didn’t dwell on it, because he had something else to look forward to now.

His summer days were now filled with sweat and dirt and laughter.  Castiel and the Winchester boys played almost from sun-up to sun-down every day.  In the mornings, they would meet up either at Castiel’s house or theirs, and then they would plan out their adventures depending on what they felt like doing that particular day.  Sometimes they played hide and seek in the salvage yard.  Sometimes they busied themselves with building new hide-outs on both properties—places where no adults were allowed, and Dean made both Sammy and Castiel promise on their lives that they’d never let anyone else know the secrets of their hideouts. 

One day they spent hours chasing down a brown and gray stray cat that somehow only had one eye.  After they finally caught it, Sammy insisted on feeding it and giving it water, so Dean and Castiel snuck into the house while Bobby was busy working in order to grab the necessary supplies.  It wasn’t much later when the boys were huddled around the starving cat that Bobby found them and asked what in Hell they were doing. 

Sammy’s lip wobbled and he said “Please can we keep him, Uncle Bobby?  I promise I’ll take care of him.”

Bobby said “Absolutely not.  The thing probably has flees.”  But somehow, Bobby ended up with a new cat that he named Lucifer because “The damn thing is meaner than the devil himself—don’t know why you boys want him.”  Castiel learned that Bobby Singer sounded much meaner than he actually was—he caught Bobby scratching Lucifer behind his torn ears all the time, and could hear the cat purring from the kitchen.

Castiel went home every day with more scrapes and bruises and sunburns than he’d ever had in his life, but he didn’t care because he’d earned every single one.  He was happy.  He could say that with confidence now, for the first time in his life.  When he was running around with his new friends, or eating sandwiches on Bobby’s old couch, Castiel was happy.

It became usual for the three boys to spend most of their time together, so that by the time July started melting toward August and the looming shadow of school crept closer, Castiel couldn’t believe he’d ever lived his life without having friends like this. 

In the short time he’d known them, Dean Winchester had become his best friend, and Sammy Winchester was like the little brother that Castiel had never known he wanted.  Castiel grew comfortable in Bobby Singer’s home in a way that he’d never felt in his grandmother’s home growing up, or in the lonely house where he now lived with Anna, who was never there. 

Anna always came home in the evenings, smiling but exhausted—Castiel had grown up learning about the difficulties of being a single parent, and he understood why she had to work long hours to support the both of them.  Still, he missed her during the days, and he was happy to see her whenever she was finally let off her hospital shifts.  Some nights, Castiel even made dinner for the both of them—scrambled eggs and toast one night, mac n’ cheese another night.  He knew it wasn’t really impressive, but Anna always smiled and hugged him and whispered “That’s my little man.  Thank you sweetheart.”

 

 

 

One evening though, after a long day of playing in the scrap yard, Castiel returned home late and found all the lights in the house still off.  Dean stood next to him with a frown marring his freckled face—Dean had made a habit of walking Castiel home every day after they were done playing—and he said “Cas—where’s your mom?”

Castiel shrugged and unlocked the door.  “I don’t know.  Maybe she called.”

Sure enough, when he reached the answering machine, he found the red light blinking.  He pushed play and Anna’s voice echoed in the otherwise silent room, saying “Hey Cas, I’m so sorry to have to call like this, but I have to work late tonight.  I’ll be home as soon as I can though, alright, sweetheart?  You can stay up if you want.  I’ll call when I can.”  Castiel stared at the machine after the message finished and he tried not to let his upset show on his face, but he couldn’t keep his shoulders from slumping.  He hated being alone in the house after dark—it still didn’t feel like home, and it was an old place that made creepy noises as the wood settled.

Dean must have noticed his change in demeanor, though, because he threw his arm around Castiel’s shoulders and steered him back around toward the door, saying “Come on, Cas.  You’re not staying here alone all night.  You can stay with us until your mom gets home.”

Castiel didn’t even bother protesting.

 

 

* * *

 

 

All the lights were out when Anna pulled her tired old car up to the house, and a wave of remorse swamped her—she hated leaving Cas alone like this, but what else was she supposed to do?  It wasn’t like she knew anyone around here who could watch Cas during her shifts, and anyway, it wasn’t like he really needed it.  Cas was such a smart boy, and he knew how to take care of himself.  But still, Anna hated that he had to be alone.  She had no one to turn to, though.  It wasn’t as if she could call her mother—not after everything they’d said to each other before the move.  And…well…Anna would rather eat glass before she called _him_ for help.

Anna turned off the ignition and crawled from the car.  She felt twice as old as she really was: at 25 years old, her bones shouldn’t creak when she moved, and she shouldn’t feel like she needed a chiropractor after a long shift.  But no one ever said that nurses had it easy, and after a 14 hour shift, Anna felt dead on her feet.

Anna sighed heavily before she twisted her key in the lock of the old house and entered into the quiet dark of the bare foyer.  She flicked the light switch and slumped against the wall when the empty living room was revealed—battered coffee table, used blue couch, and the only quality furniture they owned—the solid wood book cases.

The house was too quiet, desolate, almost.  Anna made her way silently through the house, shedding her purse and her shoes as she went.  The kitchen was empty and clean when she turned on the light—no sign of Cas having eaten.  He was always such a good boy—he cleaned up after himself better than most adults Anna knew, but she figured that was all as a result of living with her mother for so long. 

Anna made her way quietly up the stairs to Cas’s bedroom door, which was shut.  She hesitated just a moment, loathe to disturb her son, before she pushed his door open.  Panic gripped her as soon as the weak light of the hallway revealed that his bed was empty, and well-made; no sign that Cas had been to sleep at all.  “Cas!”  Anna shouted, whirling away from his door.  “Cas!  Where are you?”

Her feet pounded down the stairs and her voice echoed in the otherwise quiet house as she called for her son.  “CAS!”  Anna tore through the rest of the house but when she couldn’t find Cas, she shoved her feet back in her shoes and ran outside, heart racing.  She leapt off the porch, completely ignoring the steps in her rush to look for Cas.  She turned the corner of the house, desperate to search the backyard, when she caught a glare of light out of the corner of her eye, shining from the junkyard next door.  _Why hadn’t she thought of that sooner?_

Anna slid behind the wheel of her car, twisted the key in the ignition, slammed it into drive, and pulled out of the driveway, tires spinning in the gravel as she went.  It took her less than a minute to pull up the long labyrinthine drive of Singer Salvage and slam her car into park in front of a two-story house that had seen better days.  Paint peeled from the siding and the front porch was covered in what might have been car parts.  It was disheartening at best, and in the dim light of the porch light it even had a slightly sinister air.  Still, Anna took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and ascended the porch steps to knock on the front door.  How could she have been so foolish not to come and investigate this place before?  How had she trusted that Cas’s new friends were good people?  Suddenly all of her mother’s words came back to her, echoing in her mind: _You’re nothing but a foolish girl, Anna.  Always so damn trusting.  And for what?  How many more people will you allow to take advantage of you before you learn the true ways of the world?_

Anna rapped forcefully against the door and stiffened her stance, ready for a fight with whoever happened to open the front door.  From inside the house, she heard a gruff voice mumble “Hold your damn horses, I’m comin’!”  A moment later, the door creaked open and Anna was met with a middle-aged man wearing jeans, a stained white t-shirt, plaid, a baseball cap, and a frown.  His expression cleared up just a bit when he took a look at her, though.

“Is Cas here?”  She demanded.

The man sighed and took a step back away from the door—he motioned Anna in.  “So, you’re Cas’s mom, huh?”  Anna glared at the man and strode into the house.  “Calm down, he’s fine.  Come on in.”  Anna’s eyes adjusted to the light quickly and she took in a slightly cluttered living room where the tv was turned onto the news.  She turned back to the man next to her and forced herself to take a calming breath.  He held out a hand.  “I’m Bobby Singer.”

Anna grasped his hand.  “Anna Novak.”

“Anna.”  Bobby nodded.  “Your boy’s fine.  When he heard that you wouldn’t be home ‘til late, Dean insisted that Cas come back here and wait for you.  He seemed worried that you were working so late.”

Anna bowed her head.  “I know, and I’m…well, it’s shit.  Not much I can do about it now though.”  She swallowed down her remaining panic.  “Where is he?”

“Up in the boys’ bedroom.  They finally fell asleep a little while ago.”

“I need to go get him.”

“Sure.  Come on, I’ll show you.”  Anna followed Bobby as he led her up a set of creaky stairs to a landing.  The second door on the left had a hand-written sign on it that proclaimed “DEAN’S (AND SAM’S) ROOM.  DO NOT ENTER!”  Anna fought off the smile that threated to appear, and she pushed the door open quietly.  The light from the hallway shone into a bedroom where dirty clothes were strewn across the floor and a stack of comic books littered a little side table.  Two twin beds filled the room.  In the right one, a little boy with brown hair slept peacefully, arms wrapped around a stuffed teddy bear.  When Anna’s eyes drifted to the left, she finally allowed herself a relieved exhale.  Cas and another boy slept on top of the covers.  The other boy was about Cas’s size, and Anna knew that this must be Dean.  He and Cas had both squeezed onto the twin bed and slept close together, soundly.  Dean’s hand was stretched out, fingers clutched in the back of Cas’s t-shirt.  Anna stood in the doorway for a moment and allowed herself to take in the sight before Bobby’s voice shook her from her reverie.  “See?  Told ya he was fine.”

“You did.”  Anna whispered.  “Thank you for watching over him.”  Then she made her way into the room, crept softly toward the bed, and gently shook her son’s shoulder.  “Cas, sweety.  Wake up.  It’s time to go home.”

Cas woke up slowly, eyes groggy when he finally opened them.  “Anna?”

“Yeah, sweetheart.  Time to go.”

“Alright.”  Cas sat up and when he did, Dean’s fingers fell away sleepily.

Anna wrapped her arm around him and supported him down the stairs.  Before they could leave, though, Bobby stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.  She turned, weary and slightly embarrassed now, but forced herself to meet his eyes anyway.  She expected judgment—to be told she’d over-reacted, or called a bad mother—it wouldn’t be the first time.  Instead, though, she saw understanding and support.  Bobby Singer surprised her then—for the first time, but most definitely not the last—when he said “Look—I know you’re a nurse and work crazy shifts at the hospital.  If you have to work late like this again, Cas is welcome to stay here.  He’s a good kid.  I’ll watch out for him.”

Anna felt her lip tremble, but she forced a smile, and said “Thanks.  I mean it.”

 

 

 

 

The next day was her first day off in more than a week, and Anna was seriously thankful.  She was exhausted and she missed Cas.  And she knew that she owed Bobby Singer an apology for her behavior the night before.

Anna allowed herself to indulge in an extra-long shower while Cas slept—she stayed under the spray until the pipes rattled and the water went cold.  Then she dressed in her lazy jeans and a t-shirt, and went downstairs to make some pancakes. 

She’d just finished when Cas trudged wearily into the kitchen, still wiping sleep from his eyes.  “Mornin’, sleepyhead.”  Anna smiled. 

“Didn’t mean to sleep so long.  I was just so tired.”

“It’s fine.”  Anna waved Cas’s explanation away and motioned for him to take a seat.  “I made pancakes.  Eat up.”  Only after Cas began to chow down on his breakfast did Anna take a seat at the table with a large cup of coffee.  “Sorry I got home so late last night and woke you up.”

“It’s okay.  I understand.”  Cas mumbled around a mouthful of food.

Anna nodded, grateful but sad at the same time for Cas’s level of maturity and understanding.  “I met Bobby Singer last night.”

Cas paused to take a gulp of milk.  He nodded.  “Bobby said I could stay until you got home, but then we fell asleep.”

Anna twisted the handle of her coffee cup.  “I think we should make him a pie to say thank you.  What do you think?”

Cas’s eyes crinkled up in a smile and he swallowed his bite of pancake.  “I think so too.”

 

 

 

 

In the light of day, Bobby Singer’s home looked much less ominous.  The porch was still rickety and covered in car parts, and Anna had still felt the press of claustrophobia as she’d driven up the drive lined with old cars.  But now, she could see that the place wasn’t scary.  Just neglected.  She felt nervous standing on the front porch with her son, clasping a fresh-baked apple pie in her hands, ready to apologize for storming into Bobby’s home like a crazy person the night before.

Cas knocked and a moment later, footsteps crashed from inside and the door was yanked open by a small boy, who Anna knew must be Sammy Winchester.  The boy smiled and said “Cas!  Is this your mom?”

Anna smiled.  “I’m Anna.  Can we come in?”

“Yeah!”

Just inside the door, they were met with Bobby Singer, who clutched a cup of coffee in his hand.  “Mornin’” he greeted.  “Want a cup?”

“God, yes.”  Anna muttered.  She and Cas followed Bobby toward the kitchen but they paused before entering when footsteps thundered down the stairs and Dean Winchester dashed into the room to join them.

“Cas!”  He grinned.  Then he turned his eyes on Anna.  “You Cas’s mom?”

Anna quirked a brow but nodded.  “Yep.”

Dean’s eyes flashed over her face before they landed on the pie in her hands.  “What’s that?”

Bobby growled “Mind your manners, boy.”

Anna smiled though, and said “It’s an apple pie me and Cas made to say thanks for letting him stay last night.”

Dean’s eyes widened then they fixed on Cas’s face and he smiled charmingly.  “You never told me you know how to make pie, Cas!  That’s it, you’re staying forever.”  Then Dean snatched Cas’s wrist and tugged him away behind him, muttering “You have to teach me how, man.  Seriously.  You’re awesome.”

Anna watched them turn the corner and head back up the stairs, lips quirked in amusement.  She turned back to Bobby and offered the pie.  “It looks like you have your hands full.”

Bobby shrugged and took the pie from her.  “The kid loves his pie.  What can ya do?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's basically the beginning of the end. The pie sealed the deal.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter John Winchester.

 

 

_August 1997_

9 years old

 

            It should have felt like a prison sentence—another year of trudging through long, crowded hallways, shackled by countless rules and tasks that Castiel found utterly boring.  And it would have, regardless of the new school, new faces, new scenery, except that nothing about it could be quite so bad with Dean Winchester at his side.  Dean was filled with so much rebellious, grudging enthusiasm, that Castiel couldn’t help but be swept up in it as well.

            The bus picked them up at the end of their long dirt lane, and so Castiel walked to the stop with Dean every day and they waited there together until it was time to go to school.  Mostly they entertained themselves with lounging against the sagging fence post at the end of the lane—Dean had a pocketful of sunflower seeds that he chewed, and he would sometimes spit the shells at Castiel playfully just so that he could laugh when Castiel frowned and scolded him.   When the bus finally came, Dean hitched his bag casually on his shoulder and said “Come on, Cas, let’s head toward the back.”  They couldn’t sit all the way in the back, the way that Dean wanted to, because there were older kids already taking up that space, kids that basically ignored Dean and Castiel.  They found a seat together midway back, though, and contented themselves with chatting all the way to school.

            At school, Dean introduced Castiel to a couple people who were “pretty cool,” those being Jo Harvelle—a girl a year younger than them who wore pigtails and sported a mischievous grin, and a boy a year older than them, named Ash, who had a “wicked cool bug collection, if you ever wanna see it.”  But when Castiel asked Dean if he had any friends in their grade, Dean just shrugged defensively and said “Nah, never needed ‘em.”  Castiel wasn’t sure whether that declaration made him feel sad, or flattered to be the new exception.  Either way, he accepted it.

            Dean and Castiel were lucky enough that they were put in the same class—Ms. Mitchell’s fourth grade class, composed of 23 students.  Dean and Castiel were assigned seats all the way across the room from each other, which sucked, but they made up for it by making faces at each other whenever they thought the teacher wasn’t looking.  Castiel tried to ignore Dean at first, and pay attention, but the other boy was bored, and relentless, and so finally Castiel gave in.  The other kids thought their antics were funny, and while the kids talked with them at recess and when the teacher wasn’t paying attention, they never really called themselves friends.  Castiel didn’t care.  He had Dean.  And that was a heck of a lot more than he’d ever had before.  It was everything.

            Castiel liked to read at lunch time—if he got his homework done early, it meant that he could play with Dean and Sammy in the evenings without worrying about it.  Dean called him a nerd and suggested “or you could just…not do it, ya know?”

            Castiel bit his lip and shrugged, saying “It’s important, though.”

            Dean eyed him seriously for a moment and said “Wow, you’re really into this school stuff, huh?”  Castiel shrugged again, but it was true.  He wondered, briefly, if it was enough to make Dean reconsider being friends with him, but then Dean nudged their shoulders together and said “It’s cool, man.”  And so it was.  Dean didn’t suddenly start doing his own homework, because as he explained “I have better things to do,” but he didn’t tease Castiel about it either.

            In the evenings, Castiel spent his time at Singer’s Salvage with the boys until Anna got off her shift at the hospital.  Those times were almost as good as the summer had been.  Sammy had just started kindergarten and he was so excited to talk about school every day.  While Dean didn’t seem to care about his own schooling, he was always very interested in what Sammy had to say.  Castiel noticed, but never mentioned it.  Instead, he was happy just to hang out with his new friends, and at night, sometimes Bobby let them help make dinner.  Dean was good at some things, and so was Castiel, and they started teaching each other little things, like mac & cheese, and pancakes.  Bobby would normally grumble about the mess they made in the kitchen, but he always ate what they made anyway, and said it was good.  There was usually enough left over that they could make up a plate for Anna, too.  That always made her happy.

 

* * *

 

 

            One night about two weeks into the new school year, things changed.  The three boys were seated on Bobby’s ratty old couch, watching an episode of Wild Kingdom, when their attention was caught by the roar of an engine and headlights spilling in through the living room window.  Castiel hunched down in his seat, nervous and sort of confused, because no one ever stopped by Bobby’s house except Anna, and that was most definitely _not_ the sound of her car.  Dean perked up next to him, though, and leapt up from the couch when the engine shut off and a car door shut.  “Daddy!”  Sammy called, following after his brother and running to the door just as Bobby wandered out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a dish towel. 

            A moment later, the front door swung open and a tall man strode into the house like it was his own.  He was clean-shaven and tidy, wearing black boots and jeans, along with a sharp white t-shirt that was tucked into the top of his pants.  His dark hair was combed neatly, and though his hazel eyes looked tired, they scanned the room in its entirety before focusing on Sammy, who had run right up to him.  Finally, a smile crossed the man’s face and his entire demeanor seemed to change.  He stooped to pick Sammy up and settled him on his hip, saying in a measured, deep voice “Hey Sammy, how’s my little man?”

            Sammy smiled and hugged his father, saying “I’m good, daddy!  I’m so glad you’re home!”

            Finally, the man turned his attention to Dean, who stood stiffly before him, with his hands behind his back.  “Dean.”

            “Dad.”  Dean smiled, but it was wobbly on his face.  “It’s good to see you.”

            “You too, son.  Come here.”  The man held out his other arm, and Dean went to him for a hug.  Castiel watched the whole scene from his place on the couch, too nervous to move.  He’d already figured out this man was John Winchester, but he was so much more intimidating than Castiel had imagined, and he was nervous around new people anyway.  So he remained quiet and observed when John ran a hand over Dean’s hair and asked “You been taking care of your brother?”

            “Yes, sir.”

            “Good man.”  Then, John’s eyes settled on Bobby for just a moment, just long enough for him to nod and say, “Bobby,” before they scanned the room once more and settled on Castiel.  John raised an eyebrow in curiosity and asked the room in general, “And who is this?”

            Dean moved a step away from his father, but not all the way to the couch,  and introduced: “Dad, this is Cas.  Uh, I mean, Castiel Novak.  He lives next door.”

            Though Castiel suddenly felt sweaty and shaky, he forced himself to stand and approach John Winchester, his hand extended.  “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”  He offered.

            John Winchester’s eyes flicked over him again for a moment before they settled on Castiel’s face, and he took Castiel’s smaller hand in his own, saying, “Polite.  I like that.  It’s good to meet you, Castiel.”  John’s eyes flickered to the clock on the wall, just for a second, before he turned his attention back to Castiel.  “It’s a little late for guests, though.  Shouldn’t you all be in bed?”

            Castiel was frozen, and for some reason, he couldn’t form words.  Thankfully, though, Bobby saved him, when he cleared his throat and stepped forward, saying “Cas hangs out here until his mom gets off work sometimes.  She should be showing up anytime now.”

            “Alright,” John conceded, his eyes finally leaving Castiel to settle instead on Dean and Sammy.  “It’s time for both of you to be in bed, though.  You both know better.”

            “Yes, sir,” they chorused.

            “Now tell your friend good night and head upstairs.” 

            With guilty faces, the boys complied.  Sammy waved before trudging upstairs, and Dean approached Castiel, laying a hand on his shoulder, saying “Night, Cas.  I guess I’ll see you in the morning.”

            “Good night, Dean.”  Castiel murmured, before Dean turned and followed Sammy up the stairs.

            Castiel still stood frozen, suddenly feeling awkward about being there, but Bobby must have noticed, because he said “Go ahead and finish watching your program, Cas.  You’re fine.”  Castiel was thankful to retreat to the tv once more. 

            Behind him, though, he heard John Winchester say, “Bobby, can I have a word?”  And though the two men had lowered their voices and retreated to the kitchen, Castiel could still hear their conversation, could still hear John say “Look, I’m glad the boys have a friend.  I am.  But they have a schedule they need to be following.”

            “Yeah, I know that, John.  But it wasn’t hurting anything.  They were watching the Discovery Channel, for Christ’s sake!”  Bobby hissed.

            “What’s this kid’s mom do, anyway, that she works this late?  And why is she dumping him on you?”

            Bobby’s voice was a low growl now, when he replied “She’s a nurse at the hospital, John.  And she’s not ‘dumping him’ anywhere.  _I_ offered.”  The two of them lowered their voices for a while, but then finally Castiel heard Bobby say “That’s up to me, John.  Not you.”

            By the time Anna showed up to collect him, Castiel was grateful to get away.  That was the first time that Castiel ever felt unwelcome at Bobby’s house.

 

* * *

 

 

            The next morning at the bus stop, Dean scuffed his boot in the dirt and cast Castiel a wry look, saying “Sorry about last night, Cas.  My dad can be pretty strict.”

            “It’s alright, Dean,” Castiel assured, though it didn’t feel alright.  He wrapped his arms around himself and asked “So is your dad staying now?”

            “Nah,” Dean muttered, his face hardening.  “Just for a couple weeks, then he’s off again.  He’s on leave right now.”

            “Oh.”  Castiel understood that Dean missed his father and was upset that he was gone so much, but Castiel couldn’t help the relief he felt at hearing that John Winchester wouldn’t suddenly become a permanent fixture at Bobby’s house.

            “Yeah.”  Dean ran a hand through his hair and said “He said from now on, he doesn’t want me and Sammy staying up so late to hang out with you.  Even if you stay, we have to go to sleep.”

            “I can just go home, Dean.”  Castiel assured his friend.  “It’s alright.  I’m not afraid to be alone.”

            Dean frowned as the bus pulled up, and he glared at it.  “This sucks.”

 

* * *

 

 

            After that, Castiel decided just to go home after school.  Bobby tried to talk him out of it, reassuring Castiel that he wasn’t any trouble.  Even Anna seemed confused by the sudden change, though neither of them were as upset by the declaration as Dean was.  Still, Castiel told them “It’s okay, I have a lot of homework, anyway.”  It was a lie, of course.  Castiel always got his homework finished early, but what was he supposed to say?  He felt…strange at Bobby’s house now, like he was an unwelcome intruder. 

            He could tell that the change in routine was really bothering Dean, but he couldn’t figure out how to fix it.  It turned out that he didn’t need to, though. 

            After three days of not spending their evenings together, Dean took Castiel aside just after the bus dropped them off at the end of the road and said “Come with me for a minute, Cas.  I have something to give you before you go home.”  Dean had been glum as of late, but he seemed excited about this, so Castiel followed him home willingly.  When they got there, Dean left Castiel waiting on the porch while he ran up to his room, promising “I’ll be right back.”

            Castiel waited patiently on the porch, his backpack weighing heavily on his thin shoulders.  But Dean was true to his word and returned quickly, a huge smile on his face and something hidden behind his back.  “Close your eyes, Cas!”  He ordered.

            “Why?”

            “Just do it!”  So Castiel closed his eyes warily, but then Dean grabbed his hand and slapped something solid and heavy into it.  “Now open ‘em.”

            Castiel looked down at the black electronic contraption in his hand and frowned.  “What is it?”

            Dean rolled his eyes.  “It’s a walkie-talkie Cas!  Military grade, so it’s the good shit.  I’ve got one too.  So now you and me can talk every night, even if you’re not here.  Now you won’t be alone anymore.”  Dean grinned widely, obviously proud of himself.

            Castiel stared down at the walkie-talkie, considering the implications of Dean’s words.  Now, even if he was sitting alone in that big, empty house, he could call Dean, and talk to him on this.  Dean was right.  This was great.  Castiel raised his eyes and smiled back.  “Thank you, Dean.”  He mumbled, and then he surged forward and wrapped the other boy in an awkward hug.

            Dean chuckled and patted him on the back, blushing as he pulled away.  “Yeah, you’re welcome, Cas.”  He ran a hand through his hair then glanced back over his shoulder toward the door.  “I better get going, though.  Dad said he wanted me to help him with something after school.”

            “Alright.  I’ll see you tomorrow, Dean.”

 

 

 

            That night, just after eight, while Castiel was just settling down to read one of his new mystery books, the large black walkie-talkie chirped next to him, and static suddenly filled the room before Dean’s voice called “Hey Cas, you there?”

            Castiel smiled, and a soft, warm feeling filled his belly as he lifted the walkie-talkie, pressed the button, and greeted, “Hello, Dean.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for shameless horror movie self-indulgence! XD Expect that to be a theme throughout this story.

 

 

 

_October, 1997_

9 years old

 

 

It was a cold clear day in the middle of October, peaceful in the empty old house, except for the shrill ringing of the phone—which was strange, because Anna had just left for work, and no one else bothered calling Castiel.  Castiel frowned at the phone for a minute before picking it up and holding it to his ear.  “Hello?”

The line crackled and then a deep, gruff voice asked “So what’s your favorite scary movie?”

Castiel’s frown intensified and he regarded the phone warily for a moment before he answered.  “I don’t watch scary movies.”  Then, “Dean, what’s wrong with your voice?”

The line was silent for a second, and then Dean sighed dramatically and, using his normal voice said “Really?  That’s it?  You’re killing me here, Cas.”

“Dean, what are you talking about?  I don’t understand.”

“Yeah, I know.”  The other boy sounded utterly put out.  “Come over, man.  We’re gonna watch some scary movies because you need an education.”

 

 

 

 

Cas made the trek over to Singer Salvage, wary about the whole scary movie thing, but grateful to be spending some time with his friend again.  It had been weird, and lonely while John Winchester was there.

Cas’s fist was poised to knock when the door swung open and Dean grabbed him by his t-shirt, dragging him into the house.  “Alright, man, we don’t have a lot of time to do this right, but I think we can at least get most of the classics in.”

Cas wrenched himself free of Dean’s grasp and folded his arms over his chest defensively.  “What are you talking about, Dean?”

Dean rolled his eyes but continued walking, motioning for Cas to follow him into the living room.  “Horror movies, of course.  Your pop culture knowledge is sorely lacking, Cas.  It’s my duty as your best friend to fix that problem.  So come on, I’ve got a bunch ready.”  Cas followed Dean into the living room and found an array of VHS tapes laid out on the coffee table, amid a clutter of junk-food options.  Chips and cookies and Cheetos, and a couple cans of soda all ready to go.  “Uncle Bobby said it’s fine if you wanna stay the night.  I mean, we’re gonna be busy for a while, and some of these movies might freak you out, especially since you don’t have a whole lot of tolerance built up to that kind of thing.”

Cas was about to protest, about to tell Dean that he was being ridiculous and this whole thing was unnecessary, when Sammy ran into the room, declaring “I wanna watch, too!  Dean, please?”

“No way, Sammy.  You’re too young.  You’ll get scared.”

“No I won’t!  Please, Dean?  I promise I won’t get scared.”

Dean rolled his eyes and sighed.  “Go ask Uncle Bobby.  I ain’t gonna get in trouble for letting you watch this shit.”

“Yes!”  Sam shouted, and he dashed out the back door toward the garage.

Dean waved Cas toward the sofa and began to mutter as he hovered over the VHS collection, apparently trying to decide which order he wanted to show the movies in.  He was holding two up, deliberating, when Sammy banged back into the house, declaring triumphantly “Uncle Bobby said I could watch the movies, too, as long as I don’t get scared.”

“Fine.  Sit down, then, short stuff—no, not there.  I wanna sit next to Cas.”

Sam frowned and crossed his arms stubbornly.  “I wanna sit next to him.  He’s my friend, too, Dean!”

Cas felt himself blush as he shifted uneasily on the couch.  “I could, uh…just sit in the middle?”

Both brothers seemed to find this situation acceptable, and Dean went back to choosing a movie.  “It’s so hard to choose, man.  There’ sooo much to show you!”

Cas regarded the selection.  “It looks like it will take us more than a day to get through all of those.”

Dean snapped and straightened, pointing to Cas.  “That’s an awesome idea, man!  Can you just stay the night so we can finish up the marathon tomorrow?”

Cas shrugged.  “I guess.  I’ll have to ask Anna, but I don’t think she’ll mind.”

“Sweet.  Then let’s just go in order.”

“Alright.  So, what are we starting with?”

“A real classic.  Like…. _classic._ It’s Dracula!”

Cas smiled, despite himself.  “I’ve read Dracula.  I rather liked it.”

“Then you’re gonna love this, man.  Bela Lugosi makes the movie.”

“Who is Bela Lugosi?”

Dean smirked as he slid the video into the VHS player.  “Oh, you’ll see.  He’s awesome!”

As the movie started to play, Castiel was very aware of the two warm bodies pressed close against him on the couch—little Sammy on one side, and Dean on the other.  Both boys were very excited at the prospect of the movie marathon, and though Castiel had never watched a scary movie before, he was happy to humor the brothers.  Besides, Dracula was a classic.

Cas was surprised to discover that the movie was done in black and white, and when he mentioned this fact, Dean whispered back distractedly “It’s cuz it was made in 1931, dude.”  Ah, well, that explained it.  Throughout the movie, Sammy laughed at the cheesy effects and dialogue, but Cas had to admit that the movie was actually very good. 

After it was over, and Dean looked at him expectantly, Cas cleared his throat and said “That was actually very enjoyable, Dean.  Thank you.”

Dean grinned back happily.  “Just wait, Cas.  We’re just getting started.”  Then he frowned, his happiness momentarily dimming.  “There are other great ones like this from the 1930s and 40s.  Wolfman.  Frankenstein.  The Creature from the Black Lagoon.  I wish I could show you those as well, but we don’t have them.”

Cas hated to see Dean upset, so he shrugged and said “Maybe next year?  What’s next on our list?”

The suggestion did the trick, and Dean perked back up.  He riffled through the tapes and cackled when his fingers found the one he wanted.  “Next up: Psycho—1960.”

 

 

 

 

Though Cas found Norman Bates’ obsession with his mother seriously disturbing, he couldn’t help enjoying the film.  After the credits rolled, he turned to Dean and said as much.  “That was a very good movie, Dean.  It wasn’t as scary as I thought it would be…but it was…disturbing.”

Dean chuckled.  “Well yeah, Cas, it was supposed to be.  Hitchcock though, man.  Master of the thriller.”

“Is that the man who played Norman Bates?”

“Nah, that was Anthony Perkins.”

“Oh, well I liked him too.”

“Heh.  Yeah, he’s alright.   Anyway, if you liked Psycho, I think you’ll like the main event too.  But we’ve got a lot to watch ‘til we get there.”  Dean flicked his eyes across Cas to where Sammy was still watching.  “How are you doing, Sammy?  Not too scary for you?”

Sammy shook his head resolutely.  “Nope.  Not scary at all.”

“Not even that shower scene?”

Sammy snorted.  “No way, Dean.  That was _so_ fake.  And the music warned me anyway.”

“Alright, if you say so.  Let me know if it gets too scary for you, though.”

Cas cleared his throat.  “So, uh, what’s next?”

Dean cackled evilly.  “Next on the list comes from 1973, and it’s one of the scariest movies ever made.”

Cas shifted warily on the couch and squeezed his hands together.  “What is it?”

Dean grinned widely, showing all his teeth.  “The Exorcist.”

 

 

 

 

 

Okay, so it was way worse than Dean remembered, and even he couldn’t help cringing over some of the words that came out of little Regan MacNeil’s mouth.  Of course, it wasn’t really _her_ that said and did those things.  It was the Devil himself.

Sammy was brave, and he held out for a long time, but the movie finally did him in.  He was crammed on the couch, practically in Cas’s lap, with one eye closed, and still watching, until the part where Regan came thumping down the stairs backwards.  Sammy gasped, and leapt up from the couch, dashing up the stairs to hide in the bedroom.  Dean jerked his head around to watch him go, wide-eyed, pretending like he wasn’t affected by the unnaturalness of the same scene.  He shifted next to Cas on the couch and said “Told him it’d be too scary for him.”

By the time Regan’s head did a full 360, Dean and Cas were wrapped around each other tightly on the couch, protecting each other against Hollywood and the Devil, and all the creaks and moans of Uncle Bobby’s old house. 

It was way worse than Dean remembered, but he did his best to be brave when he felt Cas shaking under the weight of his arm.  “I got ya, Cas.”  Dean whispered.  “It’s just a movie.”

Cas wormed a bit closer to Dean and said “How can this ever turn out okay?”

“Just watch, Cas.”

Sometime during the movie, Bobby came in, stared at the screen for a few minutes, then shook his head and walked back out, calling “You boys are gonna have nightmares tonight!”

By the time the movie was over, the sun had gone down and the sky was as dark as pitch.  Dean and Cas stared at the fuzzy tv screen after the end credits, but neither felt brave enough yet to get up.  “Are you gonna stay the night?”  Dean asked after a few minutes.

“Yeah,” Cas said, on a heavy breath.  “I should leave Anna a note though, to let her know.”  He rubbed his hands over his jeans.  “Will you go with me?”

“Yeah, Cas.  Sure I will.”  They got up and Dean called back over his shoulder “Uncle Bobby, we’re gonna go leave Cas’s mom a note!  Be back in a minute!”

“Hurry it up!”  Bobby called back, “It’s dark out there!”

The boys quickly made their way over to Cas’s house, sticking very close together on the walk.  They each jumped a few times on the way, at sounds in the distance, but both pretended not to be scared.  Still, they made quick work of the note to Anna, then hurried back to Bobby’s house.

“Do you… uh, do you wanna watch another?”  Dean asked.

Cas shrugged, but his eyes were still too wide with fear.  “I think we should probably stop for the night.  The Exorcist was pretty freaky.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

 

 

 

That night, somehow, all three boys and Sammy’s teddy bear managed to squeeze onto one bed.  They curled close around each other—not because they were scared, of course—but because the nights were starting to get a chill.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't updated this story in a while, but I think I'll be spending quite a bit of time on it now. Hope you all enjoy, and remember, comments are love! :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey, I'm back. Enjoy.

 

 

_November, 1997_

_9 Years Old_

 

It was cold turkey sandwiches that night.  Anna and Castiel had just settled at their little dinner table, Castiel’s teeth had just sunk into the layers of meat and cheese and bread, he could just taste a hint of mayo, when the phone rang.  Anna frowned, a furrow appearing between her brows.  “I wonder who that is.”  She said, as she stood and laid her sandwich back on her plate.  She wandered into the living room to grab the phone.

Castiel was only half listening as he sank his teeth the rest of the way through the sandwich and began to chew.  He wondered how it would taste with Doritos on it, the way that Dean seemed to eat all of his sandwiches. 

“Don’t call here.”  Anna hissed from the other room shortly before she slammed the phone back into its holder.  When she walked back into the kitchen, her shoulders were tense and her posture was rigid.

Castiel swallowed thickly and stared up at his mom.  “Who was it?”  He asked, his voice sounding quieter than he’d meant.

Anna took a deep breath, let it out slowly, then smiled at Castiel.  “How was school today?”  A huge bite of her sandwich right after the question let Castiel know that he wouldn’t be getting an answer.

 

* * *

 

 

“Pssst, come in, Cas!  You there?  Over.”

Castiel crawled over the spread of books on his bed to reach the walkie-talkie that sat on his nightstand.  “I’m here.”

“You’re supposed to say over.  Over.”

Castiel sighed.  “I’m here, Dean.  Over.”

A chuckle came across the crackling line and then Dean said “What are you up to?  I’m bored.”  A short pause followed, then “Over.”

“Can we not say “over” every time we talk?”

“How else will we know if the other is done talking?”

“I’m sure we’ll figure it out.”

“Fine,” Dean mumbled.  “So what are you doing?”

“Homework.”

Dean sighed across the line.  “You’ve got no sense of adventure, Cas.”

“I want to pass fourth grade, Dean.”

“Whatever.”  Dean was silent for a moment and Castiel could just imagine him pouting, (a thing that Dean would deny even with his dying breath.)  “We should have another movie night soon.”

Castiel smiled, thinking of the movie night they’d had a couple weeks back.  It had been a great time.  They’d chosen some of Dean’s favorite action movies and Bobby had grilled up burgers and made cheesy fries, and then they’d all piled onto the couch and watched for hours.  It was wonderful.  “That would be nice.”

Castiel could hear Dean shuffling or something over the line—the static was thick—and then he suggested, “Maybe your mom could come one time.  I bet she’d like a break.  Right?”

Castiel’s eyes softened and he grinned.  “I think she’d love that.”  He remembered her burst of anger at dinner and shook his head.  “She _does_ deserve a break.  I’ll ask.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

It was nearly 9:00 when Anna pulled into the now-familiar driveway of Singer Salvage.  She’d gotten off her shift a half hour early, so she hoped Cas was still awake.  She hated having to wake him and then drag him home only to send him back to bed.

Anna’s body had mostly adjusted to the long shifts now and her bones creaked a little less as she climbed out of the car and up to the stairs to knock at Bobby’s door.  It opened quickly and Bobby waved her in to the living room where Anna could see all three boys still sitting on the couch watching tv.  “Oh good, he’s still up.”

“They wanted to finish Wild Kingdom before bed,” Bobby said with a chuckle.

Anna smiled.  “Yeah, Cas loves that show.”  Cas noticed her then and stood with a sigh, but she waved him back down.  “Watch until the commercial, Cas.”

“Thanks, mom.”

Anna watched him for a moment before turning her attention back to Bobby.  “Thanks again for watching him, Bobby.  I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay you for this.”

Bobby waved off her words with a scoff.  “There’s no need to.  Really.  He’s a good kid, and a good influence on the boys.  I saw Dean actually doing some homework yesterday.  Believe me when I say that’s a miracle.”  He chuckled for a moment then sobered.  “I wanted to ask you a question though, before I forget.”

“Shoot.”

“I wanted to invite you and Cas over for lunch on Thanksgiving.”

Anna froze.  “I… We couldn’t possibly intrude any more than we already have.”

“Nonsense.  The boys would appreciate having Cas here and I know that you probably haven’t had a chance to make a lot of friends since you’ve moved here.  We’d be happy to have the both of you.”

Anna swallowed thickly and determined not to be overly sentimental when she said, “Then we’ll come.  Thanks Bobby.  I mean it.”  She met his warm hazel eyes and promised “We’ll bring the pie.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

The walkie crackled to life, waking Castiel from the light sleep he’d just managed to drift into.  “Cas, you there?”  Dean’s voice sounded strange.  “I need to talk to you.”

Castiel rolled over and grabbed the walkie, his voice ragged from sleep as he said “I’m here, Dean.”  He frowned and pushed himself up, pulling his knees to his chest under his blankets.  “What’s wrong?”

“My dad’s not coming.”  Dean’s voice sounded dull, defeated.  Very unlike Dean.

“What do you mean?”

“He called about an hour ago and said that he wouldn’t be able to make it home for Thanksgiving because of work.”  Dean laughed, but it sounded painful.  “I should have known.”

Castiel hated hearing Dean sound so hopeless, so resigned.  “I’m sorry, Dean.”

“Whatever,” Dean growled.  “At least you’ll be there, right?”

“Right.”  Castiel took a deep breath and forced a smile for his friend, even though he knew that Dean couldn’t see it.  “We’re bringing pie, remember?”

Dean laughed, and it was watery.  Castiel thought that maybe Dean had been crying, and his stomach twisted up at the thought.  “Knew I could count on you, Cas.”

Castiel smiled, filled with a very warm… something.  It was at that moment that Castiel decided that Dean would _always_ be able to count on him.  Even if the rest of the world abandoned him, Castiel would be there.  “Always,” Castiel said, before he could regret the sentimentality.

Dean heaved a heavy sigh.  “Will you just talk to me for a little while, Cas?”

“Ok.  What do you want me to talk about?”

“Anything.  I just need a distraction and nothing else is working.”

“I’m reading a new book,” Castiel offered.

“What’s it about?”

“It’s about these two brothers named Frank and Joe Hardy who spend their days solving complicated mysteries….”

Castiel spent a long time talking about the latest adventure of the Hardy Boys, but eventually the other end of the line returned to a steady staticky crackle and Castiel smiled softly, knowing that Dean had finally fallen asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second part of this will be coming soon, but I wanted to post them separately. So. Hope you liked.

**Author's Note:**

> So, there's chapter one. Remember, comments are love! Also, feel free to stalk me at: http://realhunterswearplaid.tumblr.com/


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